The last time I went hunting
by Dad
Summary: Another Creepypasta I wrote to Keep you company late at night.
1. Chapter 1

THE LAST TIME I WENT HUNTING

When I lived in rural West Virginia, I quickly learned that if you didn't hunt or fish, there was nothing to do. So, I began to go out with my cousins on their hunting trips. I never enjoyed killing, so I mostly stayed at the campsite and cooked. They always ribbed me about my weak stomach, but the truth was I believed that killing for fun was wrong. After I moved back to Ohio, I continued to join my cousins on their yearly deer hunt. Until last year.

It was the week before Thanksgiving. I loaded up my camping gear and headed south to Roane county. After six hours driving, I pulled up in my aunt Fae's driveway. Being reconnected with my cousins was great. It was like I never left. My aunt fixed a huge dinner. After the dishes were finished, we sat around and caught up. As the hours pass, I began to doze off. Around eleven o'clock, we all said "goodnight". I snuggled into the guest bed and fell fast asleep. My alarm clock brought me awake at 4 am. I quickly dressed and headed downstairs were my aunt was frying eggs and bacon. We all sat around the table discussing where to hunt as we ate. "How about Frank's place? We got real lucky last year." , Eddie asks as he takes a bite of biscuit with homemade strawberry jam. "Naw, Frank told us not to come back after we shot out his windshield.", Roger answers. "Clyde said we could hunt his place." We all thought about it for a while, then decided that Clyde's farm was too close to the highway. "Might kill someone if we're not careful.", Randy warns. Then I suggested Otto's place. " No one ever hunts there.", I added. "Yeah, because there's no deer." , Eddie grumbles. "How do you know there's no deer?" , I ask. Eddie thinks for a minute, then answers, "If no one hunts a place, it means there's nothing to hunt. It's like fishing where no one ever fishes." "Or it means no one has tried it." , I retort. After some arguring, we decide to ask Otto for permission to hunt.

After breakfast, we load up Mitchell's 4x4 and headed over to Otto's farm. We got there just after sunrise and found uncle Otto starting his chores. He was surpised that someone wanted to hunt his place. "I don't even hunt here. But, if you boys want to give it a try, be my guest." We start unloading the 4x4 and began the hike up the trail. After an hour, we got to a clearing and found the remains of a stone foundation with a crumbling fireplace. We quickly set up camp inside the foundation and I started a fire in the old fireplace. I sat back enjoying the crisp day by a blazing fire while the rest went over their hunting strategy. Essentually, two would stay down wind from the woods while the other two drive the deer towards them. The two waiting would shoot the best four and each would tag their deer. It's slightly illegal, but only if you get caught. They start off towards the thickest part of the woods. Once they're out of sight, I pull out my sleeping bag and open the book I brought. Seventy-five pages later, I still haven't heard any gunfire. "Maybe there aren't any deer, after all." ,I snickered and returned to my book. After another hour, I start cooking some canned beef stew. It was just getting warm when the hunters returned to camp swearing. "I knew we should have paid for Frank's windshield!" ,Randy yells. "Well, I was right! The reason no one hunts here is because there's no deer! What are we gonna do now?" I scratch my chin and answer, "Why'd you listen to me? I don't hunt. I'm always happy when you come back empty handed." The group continue to grouch at me until I start serving up the stew. They began to mellow out once their stomachs were full. "Oh, well!" , Eddie starts. " We'll just have to try to get on Frank's good side again. I say we get a good night's sleep and start out at first light. Maybe if we pay for the windshield, he'll let us hunt. How much has everyone got?" The cousins came up with about a hundred dollars. Then they looked at me. "Wait a minute!", I said. "I don't even own a gun. I didn't shot out the windshield! Why should I pay?" "Because it was your idea to come here. You owe us." , Roger answered. I couldn't argue, so I said I'd pay the difference. The sun began to sink behind the hills as we set up our campsite. I gathered enough firewood to last the night. Soon, we began to tell stories and jokes and the time flew by. "Well, we'd better get some sleep if we're going to be at Frank's by sun up.", Eddie announces. We exchange goodnights and snuggle into our sleeping bags.

I was just starting to doze off, when a voice came from the woods. "HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?" I recognized the voice immediatly, it was uncle Otto. We all got up. "OVER HERE!" ,I answered. "WHERE? I CAN'T FIND YOU! COME HERE!" We all looked at each other. The campfire was still burning. He should be able to see us. "OVER HERE!" , I picked up a burning branch and waved it over my head. "I CAN'T SEE YOU! COME OVER HERE!" We looked at each other. "Otto's just waiting out there for one of us to come out there so he can jump out at us." , Eddie whispered. "Let's slide down into the wash and try getting behind him. We'll show him!" Roger pulled out his spotlight and shined it into the woods. Randy began yelling, "OVER HERE!" Eddie, Mitchell and I crept around the wall and slid into the wash. Quietly, we moved past the treeline while Otto kept yelling, "COME OVER HERE! I CAN'T SEE YOU!" We kept moving until the voice was behind us. "Ok, ready?", Eddie whispered. "Yeah.", Mitchell and I answered in unison. But, just as we began climbing, We heard Roger scream, "OH MY GOD! HELP ME!" Eddie started scrambling up the wash, but I grabbed his coat and pulled him back. "Lemme go! Roger's in danger!" , Eddie snapped. "That voice came from the trees." , I whispered. "SO!", Eddie snapped again. "So, if Roger's voice is coming from the trees, who's holding the light?" We looked towards camp and saw Roger's spotlight shining towards the trees. Though the beam was shaky, it was still there. We looked at each other and ran back to the camp. We pulled out out lights and shined them around the area. The voices continued throughout the night. We heard family, friends, even co workers calling for help. Once my Mother's voice called for me. I had to stop myself from running to her. They stopped just as the first rays broke over the hills. Once it was light enough to see, we jammed everything we could into out backpacks. We made the hour hike back to Otto's in thirty minutes.

Eddy jumped the stairs and beat on Otto's back door. He opened it holding a cup of coffee. "No deer, huh? I tried to tell you." , he says shaking his head. But, Eddie was livid. "IF YOU DON'T WANT PEOPLE HUNTING YOUR PLACE, THAT'S FINE! BUT, YOU DON'T HAVE TO SCARE THE HELL OUT OF US! YOU COULD HAVE GOT SHOT!" The puzzled look on Otto's face quickly changed to fear. "You heard the voices, didn't you?" "LIKE YOU DON'T KNOW!" , Eddie snapped. "C-come in.", Otto stuttered. We all looked at each other, but went inside. Otto pulled down some coffee cups and filled them. "I'm sorry, boys. I thought it was over. It's been so many years." , Otto's voice cracked. I could tell, he wasn't acting. " You thought what was over?" , I asked. He walked into the living room and returned with an ancient Bible. He opened it to the family tree. I didn't recognize most of the names except for my grandparents and their children. Otto runs his finger down to the name Cyrus Carper 1762-1831. "Cyrus Carper is your Great-Great- I can't remember how many "Great"s he said- grandfather. He was granted what is now Rhone county by George Washington for his valor during Revolutionary war. But, someone was here first. A band of Shawnee called this place home. When he arrived, he was taken to the chief. The two men made an agreement that they wouldn't interfere with the other. As a token of peace, the chief gave him a woman from the Delaware tribe taken in a raid. Cyrus gave the chief a rifle, gun powder, shot and other items. Here's the list-", Otto points to it. "For years, they lived in peace. Until, one day, Cyrus found his horse dead with arrows in it. He went to the indian camp and demanded a replacement horse. The chief refused. So, Cyrus walked out and shot three horses before he was chased from the camp. With the tribe on his tail, Cyrus barricaded himself and his family in the little cabin up on the hill. For a week, they held off attack after attack. But, soon the gun powder ran out. Cyrus gathered his family and loaded them on a wagon. In the dead of night, they left their home. They went to the Fort Henry for help. The commandant ordered a patrol to escort them back to their home. But, before they got there, they were ambushed by the Shawnee. The Shawnee were outgunned and quickly killed. Cyrus and his family returned to find his home burned and his livestock stolen. The soldiers charged the Shawnee encampment, killing everything that moved. With the Shawnee gone, Cyrus began to rebuild. He reset the foundation and began to rebuild the fireplace. That night, the family stayed inside the the foundation. Around midnight, Cyrus heard someone calling to him from the woods. They asked him for help. Then, he heard Family members and friends. Night after night, the voices continued. Finally, having had enough, Cyrus loaded his gun and charged into the woods only to run screaming back to the foundation. That next morning, he moved his family five miles away. Till the day he died, he refused to tell anyone what he saw in those woods. Over the years, anyone who stays out there overnight is kept awake by voices. Not one person has had the nerve to look." , Otto finished his story and put the bible away. We all sat there, mouths agape. Finally, I shook off the creeps. I pulled out my wallet and handed Eddy the two hundred dollars I brought with me for expenses. "Good luck, guys. I'm going home."


	2. Chapter 2

The last time I went hunting; part two

I told you about the last time I went hunting. How my cousins and I were terrifyed by voices coming from the forest around our campsite and the story my uncle Otto told us. But, I haven't told you the whole story. This is the real reason I haven't been back to West Virginia.

After my cousins dropped me off back at Aunt Fae's house, they decided to call it a day and get some sleep. I was too wound up from the experience. So, I sat at the kitchen table and talked to aunt Fae. I told her about what happened and what Uncle Otto told us. She didn't act surprised. "I tried to get him to tear down that foundation, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. I understand It's a part of our history, but it's going to get some one killed someday.", she sighed. She told me to get some sleep and start back this evening, but thoughts kept racing about what could up there and what it could want. So I got up, thanked her for the hospitality and loaded my car. I told her I'd be back down for the reunion in June. It was an arduous trip back home. I pulled in my driveway just before sundown. I didn't even take my clothes off. I collapsed on my bed and passed out. I was awakened by my phone. The clock read 11:07. "Oh, man! I forgot to set the alarm! I'm so screwed!" The phone rang again. I knew it was my boss either chewing me out or firing me for not calling off. I picked up my phone. "Hello?", I said timidly. To my surprise and relief, it wasn't my boss, it was Eddy. "Fred, I got some bad news.", he sighed into the phone. I pulled my self together and braced. "What's wrong? Is everyone OK?" "No, Uncle Otto's dead." I couldn't believe my ears. "How? why? I mean we just talked to him yesterday. How'd it happen?" Eddy sighed again, "After we got up, Roger, Randy, Mitchell and I went over to Frank's to get permission to hunt. It took almost all day to get it. We decided to stay at his house until morning then hike up to our usual spot. About midnight, Frank's phone rang. It was Aunt Yula Mae. Otto went up to that damned foundation to finally get some answers. 'He went up there about sunset and I haven't seen him since. Could you boys go look for him?', she asked. How could we say no. So, we loaded up and rushed over. We hiked up there using our spotlights and head lamps. When we got there, we split up into pairs and looked around the area. We found him just inside the treeline. He was dead." , Eddie's voice cracked. It took him a few moments to regain his composure. " We picked him up and carried him back to the foundation. Just as we got inside, those damned voices started again. We all fired into the woods hoping to get whoever did this, but the voices kept going. We had to wait until daybreak to finally carry him back down the hill."

I was stunned. "Do you know how he died?", I asked. There was silence on the line. Then I heard a door close quietly. "Yeah," he whispered into the phone. "The doctor says it was a hunting accident. He said some one must have been poaching on his land and got caught. They shot him." "Does the police have any leads?" "I doubt we'll ever know. The doctor pulled out what killed him. It was an arrowhead." I thought for a minute, "So they used a crossbow?" Eddy paused for a moment. "It wasn't a crossbow." "Then how did they unscrew the shaft?" "They didn't." "OK, I'm confused. They broke off the shaft and left it in him?" "There's no shaft, OK! Just the head." I could tell He wasn't telling me something. "What aren't you telling me?" For a few seconds, there was silence on the line. "Well?", I asked again. "The arrowhead was flint! It had dirt on it and it was embedded six inches into his chest!" A chill ran down my spine. Otto's story ran through my head. I told him to tell Aunt Yula Mae I'm sorry and to let me know when the funeral was going to held. He said he would and hung up. That was the last time I talked to him. About month later, a letter arrived from Aunt Fae. It read, "Dear Fred, I'm sorry to have to tell you about your cousins. Eddy and Mitchell were killed. They went back up to the foundation to blow it up. Somehow, they got too close to the explosion. They were found with their heads caved in." She went on to tell me about Uncle Otto's funeral and when The cousin's funerals will be, but it was her final line that got to me. It read: "I don't understand how those stones got through the motorcycle helmets they were wearing. I mean, the helmets didn't have a scratch on them."

I didn't answer the letter. I didn't go to the funerals or the reunion. I haven't talked to any of my family in West Virginia in a long time. You may think me a coward and maybe you're right. But, there's just something in the back of my mind telling me that something's waiting for me to go back. It has a long wait.


End file.
